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never has been.
    Clay’s innocent.”
    Finished with the blush, Madeline smeared some brown eye shadow on her eyelids. “The car’s going to stir it al up again,” she said. “Don’t you think it’s better to get to the bottom of what happened?”
    The silence stretched, and a few seconds became half a minute.
    “Is something wrong?” Madeline final y asked.
    “No, of course not,” Grace said. “Believe me, I’d like to know what happened, too. But not at any cost.”

    “We’re talking about dol ars. What are dol ars compared to peace of mind?” Dropping the eye shadow into her makeup bag, Madeline dug around for her mascara.
    “Can you real y afford him?” There was concern in Grace’s voice.
    “I’l keep him on as long as I can.” Madeline heard a clock ticking somewhere in her subconscious, and it made her frantic. She only hoped Hunter found her some answers before she had a nervous breakdown or was living out on the street.
    “Do you need help with his bil ?”
    It was a generous offer. But Madeline didn’t expect her stepsister to finance an investigation she couldn’t welcome.
    Mr. Solozano would, in al likelihood, focus on Grace and the mother and brother she loved so dearly—at least in the beginning, before he got beyond the circumstantial evidence that led everyone else to blame the Montgomerys.
    “No. But thanks.” She glanced at her watch. It was nearly nine. “I’d better go.”
    “Maybe you should discuss this with Clay,” Grace said.
    “I’m sure Mr. Solozano has already purchased his plane ticket.”

    “Where wil he be staying?”
    “Here, in the guest house.”
    “You don’t even know him! Is that a good idea?”
    “It’l be fine,” Madeline said.
    “What’s wrong with having him stay at the Blue Ribbon Motel?”
    “He’s from L.A.”
    “So?”
    Madeline wasn’t about to stick Hunter Solozano in the aging motel located next to a trailer park of ramshackle mobile homes. Besides giving him something else to look down his nose at, it’d cost her more money, and Madeline sort of liked the idea of having her P.I. so close. Then she could be sure he was working and not watching pay-per-view at her expense. “He comes highly recommended.”
    “Maddy—”
    “After I meet him, if I think there’s any threat, I’l make some adjustments,” she interrupted.
    “O-kay,” Grace said, but her reluctance was evident in the way she drew out the word. “And you real y think this guy wil make a difference?”
    “I’m sure of it. Talk to you later.” As Madeline disconnected, she realized that she was putting an inordinate amount of trust in Hunter. She could be setting herself up for a big disappointment. But every investigator who’d recommended him had done so in the most glowing terms. And she needed to believe he would bring her resolution at last.
    It was odd, though. Even thoughts of ultimate success made Madeline nervous. She supposed, deep down, she was more terrified of the truth than she’d ever wanted to admit. Even to herself. She knew almost everyone in town, so chances were good she’d also know her father’s murderer.

    Clay stared out his kitchen window at the barn where it had al started. The sun peeked from behind the clouds, giving the hulking structure a long, ominous shadow that stretched across the yard, reaching almost to the chicken coop.
    Unfortunately, the shadow of the man they’d buried behind it stretched even farther. Clay had been only sixteen the night everything went wrong. Yet those events continued to haunt him.

    Twenty damn years…And he knew that what had happened would stil bother him after sixty years.
    Shaking his head, he let his eyes shift to the front of the barn. After his sisters had left for col ege and his mother had moved to town, he’d converted the stables that had once housed the reverend’s mean horse and a couple of boarder horses into a large open area where he could restore antique cars. But the section